The Cult

Hello and welcome to my episode of The Cult.  Please be advised that this narrative is for entertainment purposes only.  The characters in this story are fictitious.  Any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental...or is it?

When I first encountered the goddess Isis in my meditation a couple of weeks ago, I was excited.  My excitement quickly turned to awe and reverence as her powerful energies could be felt around me as I connected with her through the Tarot and through my hand-crafted crystal grid.  Other energies arose within me, such as a resurgence of my feminine sexual energies, and I attributed this to the help and healing garnered from the energies of Isis.  I was intrigued with this phenomenon and about this goddess, so I went to the Internet to find out more.

My dissonance began when I got to the second paragraph of the Brittanica article which read: Isis was initially an obscure goddess who lacked her own dedicated temples, but she grew in importance as the dynastic age progressed, until she became one of the most important deities of ancient Egypt.  Her cult...wait a minute.  Her "cult"?  Yeah, I remember from grade school history that these religious groups were known as "cults", but I didn't want to be faced with such pejorative language surrounding my newly found friend and loving guide.

Much like I don't appreciate Brittanica's line from the article that read: She is still revered by pagans today.  I don't particularly want to refer to myself as a pagan, or a witch or a new ager, as NONE of these terms resonate with me.  I don't want to label myself as anything other than a Truth seeker, spiritual not religious with a capital T.

In fact, I have no problem at all with the part where Britannica says: As mourner, she was a principal deity in rites connected with the dead; as magical healer, she cured the sick and brought the deceased to life; and as mother, she was a role model for all women.  That resonates.  I suppose I should have went with Wikipedia from the get-go.

So, yes, I got a little triggered with the whole cult thing, and it got me thinking about everything.  I just saw a quote by Sam Harris today, which said: If your beliefs are not falsifiable, if there's no scenario that could convince you that your most cherished opinions are in error, then that's proof that you didn't get them by being in contact with reality.  Well, let me just say, that I often wonder, what in the world is going on here.  This stuff is SO far out there, SO wild, SO unbelievable, I could definitely be being duped.  I could certainly be wrong about the whole thing.

But what if truth is stranger than fiction?  And what if when I look up in the sky and ask for confirmation from a light ship, I get it?   I can at least say that some part of this is real.  Some part of this is true.  Even if the whole story might not turn out to be exactly what I thought it was.  I'm ok with that.

When I have a bad day though, I find myself hoping that this is not the biggest fucking psyop in human history, of which I have fallen into hook, line and sinker.  Although it is... the biggest psychological operation in human history, and I have chosen, after much thought and as much "research" as I can reasonably do, and after listening to probably thousands of hours of theories and conspiracies and some of it good and some of it bad...after all of that, I have chosen to believe.  And sometimes, I just have to wonder where THAT all comes from, the power to BELIEVE.  

Being raised in a Christian home and family and community, I didn't have a fair shot at being an atheist, or a Buddhist, or Hindu or something fancy like that.  Even when I got my yoga teacher's training, I was cautioned of the dangers of eastern philosophy by my sister's minister.  My same sister who accidentally led a group in prayer at one of the church meetings and was promptly told that she would NOT be doing that again...because she was a woman and that was not allowed.  And I thought I would never fall prey to THAT, being the enlightened, divorced, strong, kundalini awakened, independent woman that I was at the time.  Enter the need to shed my ego, I guess.  

But first, a little bit of: In the Beginning... I was just a little girl who loved.  I loved my parents.  I loved my family.  I loved Jesus.  I loved God.  I can remember going to Sunday School in the basement of the old Presbyterian Church building in the town where I grew up.  I was very young, only two years old when the congregation moved to the new church building.  I can remember my grandma and my aunt teaching me Sunday School lessons there.  And I liked these lessons, with the felt cut-out figures that got put up on the felt bulletin board...it was kind of like playing paper dolls.  It was fun, and it was just what we did, every Sunday, rain or shine, it is what we did.

Growing up I loved my church, and singing in the children's choir, and decorating for Christmas, and acting in the Christmas program too.  As a child in the Presbyterian Church, I could not participate in communion.  I could not receive the bread and the "wine", which was just grape juice in our church.  I felt sad at this, and left out and, well just sad.  So, I would "play" communion at home after church with wonder bread and dixie cups filled with grape juice.  I was the preacher, of course.  As I said, none of that inequality stuff in my psyche....and yet it was.  It was all being programmed into me in such subtle ways from the beginning, through the middle and even at the end when I finally snapped.  I'll get to that in a minute.  

I was "saved" for the first time, during an emotional altar call as a participant at an evangelical bible camp the summer I turned 12 years old.  It was the beginning of my real personal journey with Jesus, as young and naive and misguided as I might have been.  I remember the Easter, when I was also 12, realizing that I was growing up, but still wanting to be a child too.  I remember skipping around the yard hunting for easter eggs, like a 6-year-old, with joy and play in my heart.  But I also remember a sadness of Easter morning that year.  A few days earlier, I had found a dead baby bunny in our yard, which was strange because I never saw live bunnies hopping around our farm, ever.  In a fervent effort, to live out my budding spiritual life, I put the dead little bunny in a shoebox, I prayed to Jesus and asked that the baby bunny would be brought back to life on the third day, on Easter Day, just like he had been.  Much to my sadness, and a little bit to my surprise, the baby bunny did not come back to life.  Perhaps my skipping around the yard collecting Easter eggs was my way and bidding farewell to that innocent little child within me that could believe almost anything.  

Soon thereafter, I started growing up.  In a lot of ways.  Promiscuous ways that I will not get into here, not because it doesn't relate to the topic, but because I don't want to write a book.  I'll save that for later.  So, I was growing up, becoming a young woman, but I was only able to take communion after I turned 14 and completed my confirmation course at my home church, still the Presbyterian Church on Idler Lane.  It was during my confirmation classes, i.e. "programming", that all of the "stuff" really started getting drilled into me.  

Up to this point I'd heard Bible stories every Sunday and learned all about the holidays and traditions surrounding the holidays, but we had never really discussed doctrines or dogmas and things like that.  As I recall, my confirmation included the Doctrines of Calvin.  That's really all I remember of that.  I remember talking about pre-destination, which is probably from Calvin, and being warned about going to college and all of the dangers lurking there, which was probably from my minister, bless his kind heart.  He was a very good and gentle soul.  I know that he meant well.  And because I really don't remember all that much of my confirmation classes, I've copied and pasted "What A Presbyterian Believes" because that's probably as close as you will get to knowing what was being taught to me at this time, in case you are interested.

Beliefs

The Book of Confessions presents the following beliefs for the Presbyterian faithful to follow:

• The Trinity - We trust in the one triune God, the Holy One of Israel, whom alone we worship and serve.
• Jesus Christ Is God - We trust in Jesus Christ, fully human, fully God.
• The Authority of Scripture - Our knowledge of God and God's purpose for humanity comes from the Bible, particularly what is revealed in the New Testament through the life of Jesus Christ.
• Justification by Grace through Faith - Our salvation (justification) through Jesus is God's generous gift to us and not the result of our own accomplishments.
• The Priesthood of All Believers - It is everyone's job—ministers and lay people alike—to share this Good News with the whole world. The Presbyterian church is governed at all levels by a combination of clergy and laity, men and women alike.
• The Sovereignty of God - God is the supreme authority throughout the universe.
• Sin - The reconciling act of God in Jesus Christ exposes the evil in men as sin in the sight of God. All people are helpless and subject to God's judgment without forgiveness. In love, God took on himself judgment and shameful death in Jesus Christ, to bring men to repentance and new life.
• Baptism - For both adults and infants, Christian baptism marks the receiving of the same Spirit by all his people. Baptism with water represents not only cleansing from sin but also a dying with Christ and a joyful rising with him to new life.
• The Mission of the Church - To be reconciled to God is to be sent into the world as his reconciling community. This community, the church universal, is entrusted with God’s message of reconciliation and shares his labor of healing the enmities which separate men from God and from each other.

I wasn't really all that afraid of the alleged dangers to my mind, my body and my everlasting soul, I suppose.  Truth be told, I was actually kind of looking forward to it, after growing up in that little farm town.  I remember looking at my friend Rachel, who was in the class with me, like "do you believe all of this stuff?".   I remember that I confessed that I did so I could pass the class and get to take communion like an adult.  It was my first real experience of going along to get along.  It was the first awareness of the whispering in my soul.  But I wasn't all rebellious.  Aside from drinking a little bit of liquor in the barns during the County Fair the summer before I started high school, I actually found myself in a Free Methodist youth group the beginning of my sophomore year.  Somehow, I was becoming more and more thirsty for God, and the truth, wherever that truth was to be found.  I might have also been chasing a couple of boys.

I started reading my Living Bible a lot (the one I used to take to school with me back in 4th grade.  You could do that kind of thing in a small town back in those days). I had my first profound spiritual experiences around 16 years old.  The first of these experiences occurred while in the wilderness during a youth group retreat.  The most powerful one, however, came to me as I was sitting in my room, on my bed, praying to Jesus.  I'm not sure what I was praying about, if it was one of the boys I was in love with or not, but a very warm and loving energy came to me and embraced me and made me feel so safe and warm and loved.  I knew that energy as Jesus, and at that moment, nothing else in my world mattered except loving him and being a reflection of his light.

But both of the boys in the youth group that I loved dumped me, and maybe that made me dump Jesus too, I don't really know, but by the time I was graduating high school, I was feeling the need to lose my virginity and go out into the great big world and find my fortune.  It was a pretty crazy time, looking back on it all.  By the time I actually made it into college, I was questioning church and religion, all by my little ole self.  I didn't really need any help to get myself questioning, but I guess the Universe thought differently, so it sent me some extra assistance from some new college friends and professors too.  We all questioned and theorized and tested things out.  Eventually, I stopped going to church, but I never stopped loving God, and although I didn't think Jesus was God, I really never stopped loving him either. 

And the whole spiritual seeking always fascinated me.  I was seeking in SO MANY unconventional places for love, for the love of God, for truth and for a greater understanding of the real world and what everything all really meant.  I remember an AHA moment I had sitting in my bedroom at U of I, probably back in 1992 or so.  I was depressed as hell then, as living in the dense gray world of Champaign Urbana could do, and I was trying to make sense of so many other things in my life at the time. I remember being terrified of having somebody cut off my long hair in my sleep and I remember thinking about Christ, who Christ was, and what Christ really meant.  Again, definitely not going to church at the time, but still loving God and then BAM!  It hit me, from out of nowhere, I don't know what sparked it, but I remember that flash of light, of an unmistakable Truth.  Maybe it was actually my first epiphany, I don't know, but I remember knowing that Jesus was A Christ, not necessarily THE Christ, and we were ALL supposed to become Christ ourselves in our own way, however that was, I just wasn't really sure then.  But it ALL made perfect sense to me, and I don't remember exactly what I ran out and did with that information at the time, but let me tell you, I am so hot now and dripping with sweat as I write this.  When these energies come in for "confirmation" it gets that way sometimes.  

Flash forward here a little bit.  As I said before, I'll save all the details, including my "Flashdance" details for the book.  I want to take you to my next major influential experience in my spiritual/religious formation/transformation.  Flash forward to my Unitarian Universalist adventure.  I was introduced to the denomination by a woman at an ICASSI conference in Ottawa Canada.  In college my religion had become more about psychology and transformation than spirituality per se.  During a conversation with a colleague in a workshop, she suggested that I check out Unitarian Universalism.  It's hodge podge anything goes philosophy of religion sat really well with me at the time, so I decided to go, and I drug my then husband with me.  It is here that I had my infant son Samuel "dedicated" to God, in a beautiful ceremony, although at the time, it probably confused my parents and my Christian family very much.  Like I said, I still loved God, and, in all sincerity, I dedicated the life and the health and the well-being of my most precious treasure, my son, to him/her/it/Universe...whatever it was, didn't matter, It was Love and loving and I loved/love my son, so I did it. 

It was at the Unitarian Universalist Church in St. Louis that I met my first Wiccan, who was an intern/interim minister at the church, at the time.  After meeting with her, I started reading about more esoteric topics, astrology, the god/goddess, etc. and I honestly don't remember what all else, but I remember it felt a little dangerous to me.  Especially the god/goddess part.  That all felt a little weird.  But I loved the nature part of it and maybe I even started to meditate a little bit, I don't remember for sure.  I do remember that the Artist's Way, by Julia Cameron, also became an important part of my spiritual journey at that time.  

Jump forward a few years later to my next spiritual upheaval, going through a divorce and following my heart and my God and my inner wisdom through some pretty questionable choice points but some very life changing and transformative events for me.  My life had become a veritable movie playing out in live time before me.  So much drama and so much spiritual related stuff.  Everything began to mean something.  Like when the Hari Krishna guy showed up at my apartment door in the middle of Lebanon, a very one-horse town, and a one Yoga Studio town, which was mine, and he was searching for some yoga and a place to stay.  To top it all off, I was on the phone with my friend when he showed up.  I'd just been saying, "You know, Andrea, I just don't feel like God is talking to me anymore.  I mean, in the beginning of all of this (divorce drama, etc.) I felt like God was guiding me and talking to me all the time.  Now, I'm just not getting anything."  Cue the buzzer...the doorbell rang and I said, "Hey Andrea, someone is at my front door.  Hold on while I go check it out."  And there he stood...John in the saffron robes, I don't remember what his spiritual name was.  I told Andrea.  She asked what I was going to do.  I said, "I'm going to let him in."  

So, I did and so many things happened (no wine or sex) through my three-day encounter with him that opened my spiritual eyes to SO many things, including the introduction to the Bargava'd Gita and Krishna and the blue gods, and wondering why inside me was planted the seed of Christ when others grew up to believe in Krishna and Buddha and such.  I was sort of having a forced contemplation of the matter as I was lying in bed the day after eating a meal that my new friend John had prepared for me in thanks for offering him a place to stay in my yoga studio.  He had made curd out of milk from my fridge, and I don't remember what else, vegetables I am sure, all vegetarian, of course, and freshly made nan, made in my own cast iron skillet.  It tasted delicious, and before we ate it, he sat it all out on "an altar" in my kitchen with a picture of his Guru and maybe some other gods to offer thanks to before we ate.  Again, I'm not sure what went wrong, but the next day I had to leave work early because of the pains in my stomach and it was there, upon what felt like a spiritual deathbed to me, I contemplated the seed inside of me, knowing always and only that it would have ever grown into a Jesus tree and nothing else.  I did end up painting a picture of a blue being with a beautiful white cow after this encounter.  I think that painting freaked my mom out when she saw it.

And I feel like I was so much braver back then, going openly through all of this searching and discovery that I did.  I had a dark night of the soul, for sure.  I went wandering up north to Minnesota to take a magic mushroom trip.  I spontaneously received my kundalini while meditating in the sun on top of this hermit's earth house.  I was really brave, like not just go out and do some camping with my dog stuff.  I was really living and doing and seeking and I was really so desperately trying to find something that wasn't mine to be found yet.  And I realized that I had my son, my most precious treasure, and that no matter how brave and bold and authentic I sought to be with my life back then, he came first.  Like the goddess Isis, I poured myself into loving him and caring for him and doing whatever it would take to raise him in a way that would be the best and safest and most loving and supportive way for him to grow into the wonderful, fine, caring and loving man and husband and father that he is today.  He was my soul mission.  Mission accomplished.

And something happened to me between there and here that I am trying to recover from.  It seems like I am still trying to get lost parts of myself back.  That might be a misrepresentation of how things really truly went down, but in hindsight, it's not far off, although I was far from seeing it at the time.  I'll take you on the next part of my spiritual journey and you can see for yourself how my life unfolded and unraveled and has been getting put back together again over what I would say was the past twenty years.

But all that will have to wait for a different day.  Soon.  I think this post is getting long enough for now, and as promised, I want to get this story out to you.  I want to share my experience with life, with spirit and with the parts of me that got caught up in the "cult".   By for now.  I will see you again soon.